


yuánfèn

by hellGarbage



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Death, F/F, Murder, One Shot, Sexual Themes, Suggestive Themes, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 12:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17224457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellGarbage/pseuds/hellGarbage
Summary: I wanted to write and should've been asleep but instead I made thisThe Jane I write is likeAn amalgamation of a buncch of headccanons, ideas, and both the original origin story and the fanmade one so she's probably not the same as the usual Jane hgevjhdgbjdg(Ccrossposted on Wattpad)





	yuánfèn

You wait at the mood-lit bar, your hand resting on top of the counter. The spot is cold, you just put your drink down. The spot to the right of it is warm, the only remainder of the woman who had just been there. Her hand had rested on that spot before she walked out. You wish you could talk to her more, but she said she was a busy woman and would be back next Friday. You didn't exchange contact details, she told you it'd be more exciting that way. You promised to come back then.  
You take another sip of your drink and think about you conversation. You talked for hours, and she listened to your dreams. You don't remember what lead to that topic, but you suppose it was your fault. You've been anxious about the nightmares you've been getting recently and you wanted someone to vent to. That's partially why you came to this club tonight. It's a pretty popular one that hosts weird parties for its customers. That's one of the main attractions. Tonight's theme was something like a masquerade, it didn't require fancy dress, but you were supposed to wear some type of mask or facepaint. A lot of people came dressed in fairly fancy attire anyway, but nothing appropriate for an actual ball. The girl you were flirting with, for example, was just in a plain white porcelain mask with black highlighted features. She wore a plain black dress and evening gloves. The eyes on her mask were covered, yet you felt like she was staring into your soul with every glance her way. It sends shivers down your spine. You take another sip. You want to know everything about her. You finish your drink and pay, and go home waiting for Friday.

The day comes around. You wait at your earlier spot on the counter with baited breath. There's no theme this time, it's just a regular night club tonight. But when you look up from your drink at the familiar sound of someone sitting down in the chair next to you, you see the same woman as last time. Nothing about her has changed, except her hair is up this time.  
"Thought I'd change it up a bit." she says to you, and you chuckle into your glass.  
"Then why are you still in your costume from last Friday?" you inquire with a playful tone, still interested in small talk even through the mild haze of what you've already ingested tonight.  
"I thought we'd save the surprises until later." she replied, leaning forward on her elbow a little. You imagine she would be smirking under the mask.  
You wonder how long it'll be until later.  
"Do you want a drink?" you ask, returning her gesture.  
"Hm. I'll have what you're having." she says, putting her other hand against her cheek, going through the motions of a thinking gesture.  
You smile and turn to order your drinks, taking note of how she doesn't turn her gaze away from you until you continue your conversation.

After you finish your drink, the both of you agree to head to a motel she knows instead of either of your places. She says it isn't that far from here, and there's thicker walls than what either of you have. When you get to the motel, you get out of your cab and it barely registers to you what a quiet area of town this is, or how apathetic the managers seem with the business of the customers. All you're really focusing on right now is you're close to the room you booked, and her hand around your shoulder is getting suspiciously close to your chest. This is progress you are very much glad about. You get in your room, and she tells you to sit still with your eyes shut on the bed while she gets something special from her bag. No clothes, she adds onto the end.  
You give a quick yes and do as she says. You are suddenly annoyed about the existence of doors that block you from seeing pretty girls undressing in bathrooms. Luckily, you've always been a patient girl, and soon you hear the door start to open.  
"I want you to keep yours eyes closed still, I'll tell you when to open them, okay baby?" she purrs, and you nod in reply. You hear her footsteps hitting the wood floor, drawing closer. They sound about as clothed as the rest of her, judging by the absence of fabric rustle.  
Her left hand touches your chest and leans you back onto the bed as she climbs on top of you. She's just as clothed as you'd predicted, except for her gloves. Her hand retracts itself and you feel it slink around your waist. Her legs sit like walls surrounding the outside of yours, and she's pressed close against you. You expect her long hair to tickle your sides, but you don't feel it. "You can open your eyes now. You might not get another chance." she lulls, so you do. Something doesn't seem right about this anymore, and you're hoping she's just into some weird shit you weren't expecting, but then your eyes flick to the knife in her right hand. Her body clamps tighter around yours, and you couldn't move if you tried. Before you even get a chance, she swiftly leans her right side up just enough for you to feel the clunky but efficient plunge of the blade into your heart.  
"Wake up." she breathes into your ear, and it has the solemnity of a demand. With that, she dislodged the knife and broke your heart anew several times, one lunge for each of the loved ones she lost, but you never knew, were long gone by the first.

 

She climbs off the bed and stalks into the bathroom to wash the blood away. After she does, she rinses her mouth out, spits, drags her arm across her mouth, washes her arm, and repeats it a second time. She never actually drank any of the alcohol she'd bought and that woman was too drunk to notice, but she can't stand the thought of it. That dead girl reeked of it, and all it ever does is dredge up distant, horrific, memories she will never drop anyway. She turns the tap off and walks out of the bathroom, starting work on clearing out the bedroom. She kept a bag capable of hiding a human when she booked this motel last week. 

When she is ready to walk out into the foyer, heavy bag rolling behind her, the receptionist is too uninterested to realise she's leaving without the woman she walked in with, so she checks out a final time and hands the key back. With that, Jane leaves the town with another stolen victim, and she's sure she'll be no closer to finding him as the last time, but she won't give up after all she's done. After everything he's done.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what I'm doing lmao Idk if it's any good  
> Tell me in the ccomments, gaymers


End file.
